


Momentary Repreive

by WiseWhoaman



Series: Isoli and Rinol [1]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Light Dom/sub, Love, Sex, Shameless Smut, romantic sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:35:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28917678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiseWhoaman/pseuds/WiseWhoaman
Summary: Isoli and Rinol finally have a moment to rest and relax at a comfortable, warm roadside inn. Which inevitably turns to something much less relaxing, but no less rewarding.
Relationships: Original Female Aasimar / Original Male Yuan-Ti Pureblood, Original Female Character/Original Male Character
Series: Isoli and Rinol [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2172435
Kudos: 1





	Momentary Repreive

**Author's Note:**

> An important characteristic of Isoli is that she has a dragon's claw for a right hand and the left side of her face is partially covered in black scales. A fun aspect of draconic bloodline sorcerers is that their bodies start to literally become more and more dragon-like as they grow in power. And since the story is told from her perspective, there's no direct description of her (something I cannot abide in stories is when the author just stops dead and describes what a character looks like) and she's lived with her claw and scales for years, so she's used to them by now. But the claw and scales are pretty important to her character since they make her feel undesirable and monstrous a lot of the time. Anyway, I couldn't find a clever way of doing a description of Isoli that wasn't "She inspected her appearance in the mirror." I hate that kind of stuff. It just stops a story cold. So I put a note here so that people wouldn't get confused as to why she has a clawed hand and stuff.

Isoli felt the weight of her backpack like a stone on her shoulders. They’d all been walking miles everyday for over two weeks. The weather had been cold and wet. Only Heed’s potions and Silhouette’s magics kept them from succumbing to disease and road-wear. But there, just a little ways ahead of them: a roadside inn. The seven of them hurried, their exhaustion pushed aside at the sight of warm light. It was a two-story place, comfortable-looking with healthy smoke billowing out from a chimney, called Vagrant’s Rest.

_ Apt name,  _ Isoli thought. Her hand ached, the long claws and black scales tingling in the damp, cold air. Where her skin met her scales, along her neck and arm and back, Isoli’s skin was red and inflamed and itched awfully. She couldn’t wait to warm herself up and be dry.

They entered and were immediately greeted by warm air, the smell of cooking food and a few voices chatting between themselves. No one paid them any mind, not that Isoli would have cared. She just wanted to be out of the cold, damp road, eat some real food, drink some wine, snuggle up in a comfortable bed with Rinol and sleep deeply. Gods, she wanted to sleep in a warm bed, curled up with the man she loved next to her.

The innkeeper, a tall, massive half-orc man with a big bushy beard, motioned for them to take a seat: “Please! Anywhere ya like. Make yerselves comfortable and I'll be right with ya.”

Isoli nodded and gracelessly dropped into the nearest empty table, sliding her heavy, sighing pack onto the floor with a wet splat. Calende maneuvered herself gracefully between tables and chairs to the innkeeper, careful to keep her shell from knocking into anything. Heed sat down cross-legged in front of the fire, remained absolutely still, letting the warmth of the fire wash over them.

“Thank the gods,” Isoli said to herself, leaning back in the chair. It was hard wood and not flexible, but anything was better than being on her feet with that damned pack on her shoulders. Lyss sat down at the same table across from them, put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes, yawning. The young, redheaded half-elf girl looked like she was about to drop.  _ I always forget she’s only nineteen,  _ Isoli thought.

Rinol, her light, her knight in shining armor, came up behind her, put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them gently, rubbing the muscles between his thumb and fingers. “You okay there?” he said gently.

Isoli melted in his warm grip. That was something that always surprised her about the yuan-ti pureblood: his warmth. She would have thought a part-snake man to be much cooler to the touch, but Rinol  _ burned.  _ Isoli smiled, thinking of the last time they’d managed to find some alone time together. He had burned then, too. But that had been almost two weeks ago. Since then they’d been cold and wet, huddled in their cloaks and under trees, too exhausted from traveling all day to do anything more than exchange kisses in the morning.

Rinol noticed the softening in her shoulders, the smile on her face. He said, “Feeling better, love?”

“Much.” Isoli took one of his hands in her’s (not her clawed hand, of course), and drew it to her mouth to kiss the palm. “Of course, I can think of better things your hands can do. . . .”

Rinol laughed, a musical lively thing. Despite his often quiet, reserved nature, Rinol had hidden depths of joy and verve when he wanted to bring them to the surface. And Isoli quite often enjoyed seeing the mirth in his eyes and a smile on his lips. He pulled his hand away and gave her a quick hug from the back. One of his hands tickled her ribs through her clothes and Isoli let out a girlish little gasp and slapped him away.

“Later,” he said. “First, we should get food and warm up.”

Isoli nodded. Yes. Food. Her stomach grumbled at the sound of the word. Suddenly, she felt famished. Well, they  _ had  _ only been subsisting off of road rations and water.

Isoli heard a light cough. Right. Lyss. She had an eyebrow raised, staring at the pair across from her. Isoli blushed. Lyss’s long red hair was dry, as was her dress.  _ Stupid self-cleaning spell,  _ Isoli thought. She’d never managed to get a hold of that particular trick. The most Isoli had ever accomplished was setting her clothes on fire. Rinol had quite enjoyed that last part, and Lyss couldn’t stop laughing about it for days afterwards.

“You two could get room service,” she said. “Save us all the trouble of watching you two undress each other at the dinner table.”

“Well, where would be the fun in that,” Alosiel said, sliding into the chair next to Lyss and wrapping a wet arm around her waist. His dark hair was matted down by rainwater, but he had a smile on his face, clearly ecstatic to be somewhere dry and warm. But the way his shoulders were tensed gave away the exhaustion he must be feeling.

“No, you’re wet,” Lyss protested. Alosiel just grinned and brushed his lips across her ear, clearly whispering something into them. Lyss shivered in his grasp.

“All four of you should get a room,” Silhouette murmured. She stood a few steps away from them, wrapped in her dark cloak, her soft grey skin seeming to absorb the light around her face, casting her in . . . well, in silhouette. You hardly would have known she was a woman if not for her voice, or that she was a tiefling if Isoli hadn’t seen her without her hood up before.

“Trust me, I’ve tried,” Alosiel said. Lyss’s normally alabaster white skin turned beet red. Isoli laughed out loud. Rinol cleared his throat.

A ring of keys bounced across the table between them. “Rooms,” Calende said brusquely. “Use em, please.” She went over by the fire and pulled out her flask.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Rinol said, snatching the key ring before anyone else could. “So. Which one should we get? Oh, what am I saying? We should get the one with the most comfortable bed.”

“You don’t even know which key goes to which room,” Isoli said.

“Then we should try them all out, make sure they are all acceptable to our . . .  _ purposes _ .”

“And what purposes would that be exactly?” Lyss said, before Isoli could say it.

Rinol looked the young half-elf girl in the eye, grinned widely and said, “Wild hot crazy sex, Lyss. What do you think we’d be doing?”

Isoli felt her cheeks burn. Lyss just stared at the tall yuan-ti man, mouth slightly open. Isoli could see the thoughts rushing through Lyss’s head.

Isoli recovered and laughed, heart thumping in her throat, and said, “You know, Lyss, there are . . .  _ advantages  _ to sleeping with a paladin of Garalie. There’s this really fun tongue thing—”

“Stop! Stop! Please!” Lyss interrupted, her resolve breaking. Alosiel looked delighted and clapped his hands together.

“Oh! I think you know what you mean, Isoli! Where he takes his tongue and . . .,” and Alosiel made a kind of scooping motion with his fingers.

“I hate you,” Lyss said through gritted teeth at him, cheeks as red as her hair.

“I distinctly remember you saying something different last night,” Alosiel said.

“Well I take it back!”

Isoli just laughed, feeling all the pressure and worry and exhaustion from near-constant travel fade away. She threw her head back and let her laughter roll out from her belly.  _ The two of them,  _ she thought.  _ Either they’ll end up married, or they’ll kill one another and follow each other into the afterlife.  _ For all the teasing Alosiel subjected Lyss to, he truly was an amazing influence on her.

Isoli’s thoughts turned to Rinol . . . and then she thought at how selfish she sometimes felt with him. Isoli would joke about sharing him with Lyss and Alosiel (or maybe a willing barmaid, or, Isoli had once suggested in the dead of night when they were playing this game before, Silhouette), but a part of her wasn’t sure if she was capable of it. It often felt to her like he completed her perfectly, and to share that with someone else, even such close friends like Alosiel and Lyss, would be a betrayal of that completeness. It was a silly feeling, Isoli knew logically, but she couldn’t help but feel it, especially like this, when just being near him made her feel all giddy, a school-girl with her first crush. Isoli realized--not for the first time--just how lucky she was to find him.

Rinol looked down at her, ran his hands through her damp blonde hair. “What are you thinking, love?”

“You know. You. Us.”

He smiled, kissed her forehead. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

“The best thoughts.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Well, that’s just gross,” Alosiel said. “Being all sappy and loving. I came here for filth, damn it!”

Without taking her eyes off Rinol, Isoli pointed her clawed hand at Alosiel. Fire flickered at the end of the pointed tips. “I will burn you, bard.”

“Alosiel,” Lyss said, slapping him just hard enough so that it made an audible sound.

“Well. Ow,” he said.

Isoli looked away from Rinol’s dark eyes, at the couple opposite her. Lyss had laid her head against Alosiel’s shoulder, had her eyes closed. It seemed like she was quickly falling asleep. Hell, Isoli didn’t blame Lyss at all, not with the way Alosiel had his arms around the young half-elf, gently rocking her. Isoli smiled softly at the picture.

Then a gruff throat-clearing interrupted it. Calende. “If ye mammals are done pettin each other, would ye be interested in some grub?”

Lyss blurrily opened her eyes, nodded while making a large yawn.

“Aww, don’t go be doin that, Lyss. You’ll make me want to yawn next,” Calende said.

Isoli felt the yawn coming, said, “Already ahead of you, Calende,” opening her mouth wide.

“Damn ye,” Calende said. “But I want food in me belly ’fore I pass out in front of that fire. So quit it with that yawnin business.”

Alosiel gave a quick sailor’s salute. “No problem, Cap’n,” he yawned.

Calende just shook her head. A couple of waiters brought hot soup and meat and bread over to the table.

Rinol sat next to Isoli, pushing their chairs together so they could press their hips together. “Body heat,” he muttered.

“Oh, is that why?” Isoli muttered back, and gently gripped his upper thigh. Rinol stiffened.

“Damn you, girl,” he muttered. “If it wasn’t because there’s all these people here, I would take you right now.”

Isoli felt her core clench at the thought. Feeling Rinol losing control of himself, knowing it was because of  _ her  _ . . . it was a feeling unlike any other. Isoli massaged the inside of Rinol’s thigh, felt a shiver run through him. She whispered to him, “Maybe I want you to.”

He growled. Calende looked up at him, frowned. Lyss let out another cough. Isoli looked at all of them innocently. “Is there a problem?”

“Keep it in yer pants,” Calende said.

“Oh, believe me, I am trying my best,” Isoli said. She saw Lyss nearly choke on her soup. Alosiel snorted into his.

Rinol glowered at her. Grabbed Isoli’s wandering hand and pulled it between his legs. She felt the thick hardness there. It pulsed at her touch. Isoli rubbed her own thighs together, hardly able to control her breathing. It was getting hot underneath her cloak.

Quickly they shoveled food into their mouths. Then Rinol said to her, voice low, gruff, filled with lust, “Grab your things.” Isoli felt her core throb, felt the slickness of her thighs. Rinol hadn’t even touched her and Isoli was already this lost in her desire for him.

He held her hand in a vice-like grip. Isoli nodded, lost in her own desire for this beautiful, beautiful man before her.

They drew stares, mutterings, Isoli knew. She didn’t care. All she wanted was Rinol, to feel him surrounding her, within her.

Somehow, they found the closest room and unlocked it without tearing each other’s clothes off on the stairs. Isoli dropped her backpack by the wall, facing away from Rinol. She shivered, hearing him move behind her: all deliberate movements, all designed to get under her skin . . . roughly shoving the door closed . . . turning the key so that the lock made a loud click . . . heavy footfalls on the wooden floorboards . . . 

Isoli’s fingers trembled, fumbling the ties to her cloak. She felt Rinol’s presence loom behind her. He was not much bigger than her. Both of them were tall, broad-shouldered people. But he had her beat in sheer  _ intensity  _ right now. Isoli trembled.

“You . . .” His voice was growl. Isoli’s knees trembled, her core ached, her breath came in short gasps. He wasn’t even touching her and  _ this  _ was his effect on her.

“Me . . .,” Isoli whispered. In the silence of the room, away from their friends and companions, away from the crackle of the fire and the voices of other patrons, her voice echoed.

A heavy footfall. A hot, burning presence at her backside. She felt warm breath ghost over her neck. “You . . . you do not know what you do to me . . .,” he whispered, voice full of lust, longing, an ache that she felt as well. An ache she so desperately wanted satisfied.

Isoli moaned. She was positive that the dampness between her thighs was not the rain any longer.

She felt his hands embrace her. She dropped hers to her side, let him carry her away.

Her cloak fell away in an instant, and warm hands stroked down her sides. Rinol’s fingers brushed over the hardened tips of her breasts through her shirt. But just a brush. A tease. Nothing substantial. Isoli let out a whimper, felt herself leaning back into his embrace, shivering at his hot breath flowing over the skin of her neck.

A hand found her hip and it pulled her back. She felt his hardness, house in rough, travelworn cotton, against her ass. “You did this to me, Isoli. Only you . . .”

Isoli whimpered, ground herself against him, needing relief, anything, a touch, just something. She twisted her neck and Rinol crashed his lips into hers. Their tongues fought, twined around each other. The seal between their mouths was imperfect and soft gasps, groans, moans escaped.

Isoli broke away from him, pulled out of his grasp. His hands followed for a second, as if it hurt to have her separated from him. “No . . .,” he breathed.

She turned to face him, wanting to see him clearly. The soft light emanating from the lamp cast shadows across her face, but Rinol’s gaze was fully lit. His eyes, normally so soft and kind, were hard and dark. Isoli’s gaze slid down his body: Rinol was all hard muscle, toned chest, long legs. If he’d been born human or elf, he would have had every girl chasing after him. But his pale green skin, splotches of scales, snake-like eyes, the long scar across his face . . . those made him alien, eerie. Dangerous. Isoli wouldn’t have him any other way.

Rinol stepped closed to her, cupping her face in one hand. He stared into her eyes: soft black meeting vivid green. She waited. What would he do next? What would he do  _ to her _ ?

Slowly, Rinol brought his lips to hers. Their kiss was slow, soft, romantic, not like their first kiss. That one was all hard edges, demanding. Not like this one. The calm before the storm.

Isoli’s clawed hand slipped underneath Rinol’s shirt, and gently, oh so gently so she didn’t draw blood, she drew a sharp talon up his chest, between his hard abs, before spreading out over his chest and digging into his flesh. Rinol growled and wrenched his mouth away.

“What are you doing, Isoli?”

She said nothing. Just dug a little deeper, then let up. Pulled her hand away and in a smooth motion, she undid the buttons of her shirt, let it fall from her shoulders, leaving her only in her pants and breast binding. Rinol watched her like a hawk.

_ No. A snake,  _ she thought. He was coiled, ready to strike, ready to take what he wanted.

And by the gods, did Isoli want him to take her. Her skin felt flushed. She trembled before him. Her hands shook as she pulled her binding loose. Rinol’s eyes grew darker. His jaw clenched. His breath became shallower.

She stepped closer to him, put her regular hand—her real hand—on his chest over his heart. Isoli felt it beating fast, betraying Rinol’s stillness. His hands hung at his sides, half-curled.

“You are beautiful, Rinol,” she whispered.

“You should see yourself in a mirror,” he said back.

Isoli smiled, her gaze dropped to his pants, a clear and obvious sign of his arousal there for all to see. She brought her hand down, cupped him, felt his hardness. Rinol groaned at the touch: “Isoli . . .” She squeezed him gently, and Rinol trembled before her. She could feel him shaking. This was what  _ she  _ did to him. No one else held that power.

“I love you, Rinol . . . always and forever,” she said, and Isoli meant it with everything in her soul.

With a low groan, he gripped her hips and pulled her to him, pressing his hips into hers. She felt his length, hard and throbbing in his pants, felt it—him—grind into her core. She cried out, clutched his shoulders. She fell into his arms, knowing he would catch her. And he did. Rinol always caught her. She felt one of his hands cup her breast, kneading it. A thumb and finger pinched her hardened nipples, rolling it between them. Isoli cried out once more, digging her fingers into his shoulder. A hand slipped beneath her waistband and smallclothes, found the wetness between her thighs. A finger teased her clit before dipping further down into her folds.

A voice in her ear: “You’re wet . . . all for me . . .”

Her response: “All for you . . . only for you . . .”

He hummed and breathed deeply. Inhaling her scent. Isoli sobbed. She moved her hands from Rinol’s shoulders, down to the bottom of his shirt and began pulling upwards . . .

He stepped back, pulling his hand from between her thighs, pulling away from her.

Isoli breathed hard, eyes locked onto his hand. His fingers glistened, wet.  _ Me,  _ she thought.  _ That’s me. _ Rinol brought his fingers to his mouth. Isoli’s eyes found his. She pleaded with him, mentally.  _ Come back. Finish this. Please.  _ His tongue flickered out and sampled the arousal on his fingers.

Rinol grinned, snakishly. “Hmmm. Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten so much bread. I may not have the appetite for desert.”

“Rinol, please,” Isoli said. She wasn’t above begging. Not when he was right there. Not when he was tasting her on his fingers. Not when he  _ knew  _ what he was doing to her body.

“I suppose, but,” and Rinol’s eyes darkened even further than Isoli had thought possible, “come here.”

She came. He put his hand on her cheek. It was wet. It smelled of sex and desire. Of Isoli’s desire. For Rinol. It was a mark upon her skin.

She looked into his eyes, began to pull up on the hem of his shirt. Rinol slid out of it, gently guided her hands to his belt. She undid it and then pushed down on the waistband of his pants. She bent so that she could follow the descent of his clothing, came to rest entirely on her knees. Rinol’s breath tightened above her and he stepped out of his clothes to stand before her, naked as the day he was born, his erection at full mast between his legs.

_ No,  _ Isoli thought.  _ His cock.  _ And the thought alone, such a filthy word, it made her gush.

“Isoli,” Rinol said, his voice barely audible above her.

She took him gently in her left hand, her clawed hand hanging uselessly at her side. This was not a place for it. Rinol’s cock, leaking fluid at the end, hard as her blade. She took him in her mouth, just the head. Gave suction.

“Gods!” Rinol cried out, his hands flying to grip her by the hair. “Isoli! Gods!” He grunted.

She moaned around him, and Rinol’s knees visibly trembled. He made a strained grunt. She began to move her head, taking in one inch, then another, until her nose hit his pubic bone. Rinol’s grip was a vise in her hair, almost bringing tears to her eyes how tightly he pulled.

“Isoli, please!” he begged.

She pulled back, pulled off him with an obscene pop, a small trail of saliva between her lips and the tip of his cock. She looked up at him.

“Shit, woman,” Rinol said, chest rising and falling at an extreme speed. His grip loosened. He ran his hand down her cheek, stroked her head. His hands trembled.

Isoli, without warning, took him again, quicker this time, running her tongue along the underside of his cock, sucking, stroking what she didn’t take with her real hand. Her head bobbed in front of him. Rinol cried out, mouth agape.

“Fuck! Isoli!” His hands gripped tighter in her hair. He moved his hips in time with her head, hands not-so-gently guiding her along his length. Fucking into her.

She felt his pre-come against her tongue. It was slightly salty, but also musky. It tasted like Rinol. She craved it, wanted to taste more.

But she wanted Rinol to break more.

Her head bobbed faster. Rinol’s cock tensed . . . his breath hitched . . .

. . . and she pulled back. Took her hand off him. Breathed in deeply the slightly dusty inn room air. Her lips were swollen. The ache between her legs almost unbearable. Tears trailed down her cheeks, and she felt herself dripping in her clothes. On the left side of her face, her tears got lost in her scales.

Rinol’s response was immediate. He twitched, all of him, so close to the edge, so ready to spill over into ecstasy. But the edge was receding away. And it was Isoli’s fault.

“You . . . fuck you!”

“That’s the idea,” Isoli said, taking her hand and thrusting it beneath her waistband. She felt her own wetness, felt her own desire—her need—for release. She slipped a finger into her seeping folds, moaned as  _ finally,  _ there was  _ something,  _ some kind of stimulation, even if it was just one finger.

“Gods damn it, woman,” Rinol said. But he didn’t make a move. Too entranced by watching his lover fuck herself on her fingers, her mouth swollen from taking his erection between her lips.

Isoli groaned and pulled her hand out of her pants. She shook. Wanted nothing more than to keep pleasuring herself. But no . . . Rinol was close to breaking.

She brought her fingers to her mouth. They were coated in her wetness and glistened in the lamplight. Isoli locked her eyes with Rinol’s. His widened, suddenly understanding where this was going.

She slipped her fingers between her lips, let out an audible moan as the taste—her taste—hit her tongue. She sucked them clean, making sure her tongue flickered out of her lips. And the entire time she kept her eyes locked with Rinol’s.

She pulled her fingers from her mouth. Licked her lips. Rinol’s breath hitched.

Isoli said, “What now, lover?” She reached for his cock throbbing before her. “What do you want?” She grasped him gently. “My hand?” She gave him a small, light stroke. “My mouth?” She pressed her lips to the tip of his cock, swirled her tongue around the head, tasting the fluid there waiting for her. “My cunt? . . . Or should I get Alosiel to fuck me, if you won’t?”

With a noise somewhere between a sob and a groan, Rinol grabbed Isoli’s arm, wrenched her off her knees and dragged her to the bed in the middle of the room. He threw her onto the mattress so that her legs dangled off. He ripped her pants from her hips with an audible tearing sound.

“My clothes,” Isoli protested, not actually caring.

“Shut up,” Rinol said hoarsely and he threw the article away behind him. “You tease. You just wanted me to take you, didn’t you? To fuck you until you can’t stand.”

Isoli nodded excitedly.  _ This.  _ This was exactly what she wanted. “Yes.”

“Say it.” He plunged two fingers into her cunt. She was soaked and took him easily. Her fluids coated her inner thighs, dripped down onto the sheets. Isoli screamed.

“Yes. Rinol. Yes, please fuck me.” She was begging him.

“Everyone can hear you. They’ll hear you scream my name.” She knew.

“I don’t care.” And it was true.

“Good,” and Rinol dove between her legs like a man dying of thirst. His tongue, slightly forked at the end and  _ so  _ flexible, licked up her slit, gathering up her wetness. Rinol drank deeply of her, tongue lashing her entrance before thrusting inside. His fingers thrust in and out of her tight, wet heat, curling inside her. She clenched around him. His name spilled from her lips, a mantra, a chant. Isoli felt the coil within her wind tighter and tighter.

Rinol’s mouth moaned against her core. The vibrations made Isoli jerk. “Please! Yes!” Her legs wrapped around his shoulders, drawing him tighter to her. Her hand gripped his hair, pulled him to her. A thumb found her clit, rubbed rough circles around the nub. “Fuck! Rinol!”

Isoli felt the precipice coming.

Then Rinol removed his mouth from her entrance. And before Isoli could form words to protest, his lips found her clit and  _ sucked. _

Isoli exploded.

She clenched around his fingers, vicelike, trying to keep him there, her walls milking them. Her back arched, shoving her breasts towards the ceiling. Wetness exploded from her entrance, and Rinol drank of her. Rivulets ran down his chin. She spilt herself onto the mattress. Words fell from her lips, but didn’t know what she was saying. Her entire body quivered around the man between her legs.

Finally she calmed down. Isoli opened her eyes. She hadn’t even realized she’d closed them. Tears streaked her cheeks. She looked down at the man between her legs. He slipped his fingers out of her. His face was a mess: covered in her essence. But there was a satisfied grin on his face. Rinol licked his lips and Isoli felt the desire for him rekindle immediately.

He slid his body over hers, thick arms on either side of her head. He was still grinning. Isoli looked down between them, saw his thick cock hovering mere inches over the junction of her thighs. She looked back up at him, whispered, “Rinol, please. I need you.”

Rinol leaned his head down so that his lips brushed her ear. Whispered, “Don’t you ever say you’ll fuck anyone besides me again. You’re mine. Only mine.”

Nodding, repeating the words: “Yours. Only yours.”

“But first, you’re going to finish what you started.”

“What?” Isoli said, but Rinol was already moving, quick as a snake. Suddenly he straddled her chest, cock twitching triumphantly.

Rinol crossed his arms. “Go on. Finish it.”

Isoli needed no further prompting. She craned her neck forward, taking the tip of his cock in her mouth. It was an uncomfortable angle, one Isoli knew she couldn’t hold for long. She brought her breasts together around Rinol’s length, kneaded them together. Rinol groaned and his hips began to thrust slightly, pushing more into Isoli’s mouth. Isoli moaned, sending vibrations down the length of his cock. Little pulses of wetness burst from the head. She dragged her teeth lightly across the underside. She swirled her tongue around the head. Anything. Anything to finish this so that she could feel that glorious length within her tight, aching, wet heat.

When Rinol came, it was with no warning, no grand act of lust. Just a light grunt, and suddenly Isoli’s mouth filled with the taste of Rinol. She gasped, pulling back and he burst over lips, her neck, her chest. A spurt landed next to her eye.

Rinol breathed heavily, sagged a little. Then he got off of her and laid back on his elbows by Isoli’s side. Isoli grinned and scooped up some of the come, Rinol’s come. Slipped it into her mouth and swallowed it. She licked her lips, wiped away the com from her eye. But she left his seed on her chest. A mark, his claim upon her skin.

Rinol stared at her, an unbelieving expression. “Gods damn, Isoli.”

“Did I please you?”

Rinol shook his head, a light laugh bubbling from his lips. “Love, you’re insatiable.”

Isoli pulled him down to her, twisting her body so she was on her side, kissed him fully, grinding her core against his hip. When they broke apart, she said, “I learned from the best.”

“I  _ never  _ taught you that,” he said.

“I . . . did some reading.”

Rinol laughed. “Knights in shining armor, eh? Rescuing fair maidens?”

“Something like that.” She stroked his cheek, smiling at him, feeling warm, loved. It was still a strange feeling sometimes, that she could be loved and desired. But here Isoli was, splayed out on a rented bed, lying next to the man she had fallen in love with, covered in his essence. And the man in question nuzzled into her hand, kissing her palm. He didn’t care about her claw, her scales, her past, her heritage. He loved her for who she was now, with him and Lyss and Alosiel and Silhouette and Heed and Calende. They were her family and Isoli could not have asked for a better one.

Isoli threw her legs over him, straddled his hips, ground down, felt his cock stiffen and rise to attention once more.

“Isoli . . .,” he growled. Isoli just moved her hips atop him. She felt herself slide against him, the head of his cock rub against her folds. Friction. Gods, glorious friction. She needed him inside her.

“Rinol,” she moaned. She brought his hands to her breasts, hips jerking back and forth.

He cupped her breasts, kneaded them in his hands. She felt the rough calluses, moaned as he thumbed her nipples. Isoli arched her back, thrusting her breasts further into his hands, panting.

Rinol sat up, wrapped an arm around her waist, brought his lips to her left nipple, uncaring that his seed still covered her breast. He caught it between her teeth, and Isoli let out a whimper. She wrapped her clawed arm around his head, holding him to her chest. And with her other hand, she reached between them, grasped Rinol in a tight grasp. Gave him a pump. He was hard. She could feel his cock twitch in rhythm with his pulse. He was slick with her juices.

Rinol released her breast, grabbed her face in both hands, brought her lips crashing down onto his. His breath was hot, heavy. He grunted at the sudden grip she had over him.

Isoli raised herself up and positioned him at her entrance.

And then Isoli sunk down onto him. 

Rinol’s cock pierced her folds, sheathing himself within her. She felt everything: every bump, ridge, vein, pulse of his cock. Isoli sobbed, felt tears in her eyes. Rinol made a long, drawn-out groan, panting. She felt his whole body tense up. He was close, she knew.

They held there, drawing each other as tightly as they could to one another. Neither wanted this moment to end, wanted it to be like this forever: just the two of them, surrounding each other with their love for one another.

Isoli began to move. First rising up just a couple inches, just to feel that glorious friction, before falling back down, then rising again, falling again. Rinol dropped his hands onto her hips, squeezing her flesh tightly. He thrust up into her crevice. Obscene sounds: the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, wet squelches of fluids, pants and moans and shuddering breaths, whispers of adoration and desire and promises and encouragement. The smell of sex permeated the room, rich and musky.

Isoli brought her hand to her clit. It ached for stimulation. Anything. Just below, Rinol buried himself within her over and over and over. She felt his cock move beneath her skin. She clenched her muscles and Rinol let out a groan at the sudden increase in tightness. He throbbed within her, somehow growing even harder.

“Fuck, Isoli . . .,” he breathed into her ear.

“Rinol, please . . .,” she breathed back.

Isoli rubbed her aching clit in small, tight circles. She tensed and clenched her inner muscles tighter, letting out a broken sob. Tears streaked her cheeks. Her hair was a mess. Isoli brought her forehead to rest on Rinol’s shoulder, breathed in his scent: he smelled of sweat, musk, desire. Without thinking, she sunk her teeth into his shoulder. Not hard enough to draw blood, but certainly hard enough so that it would leave a mark. Her mark.

Rinol growled, his fingers digging tighter into her hips, leaving bruising imprints on her flesh. He thrust as hard as he could into her: once, twice, then a third time and he went rigid. Isoli felt him pulse within her, sudden warmth fill her. Rinol’s warmth. His seed. Isoli fell over the edge with him, muscles spasming. She clenched down on his cock, milking him for everything he was worth. Wanting to take it all and not let any of it go. Her juices leaked out around where they were joined. She quaked, letting out a long cry. Her world narrowed to the place between her legs, to the feeling of Rinol coming within her, coming with her. She slumped forward. Distantly, she felt Rinol’s hard chest, his hands gently stroking her sides, head, back. She shivered at his touch.

Isoli opened her eyes and saw that her head was cradled between Rinol’s neck and shoulders. His hands kept absent-mindedly exploring her body. He was breathing softly. Suddenly, all the exhaustion from the last ten days caught up with her. Isoli melted over Rinol.

Rinol chuckled lightly, said, “You good there?”

“Mmmmm . . . warm . . . comfy,” Isoli said.

“Yeah. But we should get under the covers. It would be warmer.”

Isoli raised her head and made a pouting face. Rinol laughed and brought her mouth to his for another kiss.

“Come on,” he said.

Isoli wrapped her clawed arm around his neck as he began to shift. She groaned, feeling her sensitive folds respond. The fire within her that had gone out began to spark once more. She rotated her hips, shifting Rinol’s cock within her. And despite everything, he began to stiffen once more.

“You are insatiable,” he said.

“You make me feel this,” she responded. Isoli locked her ankles behind his back and jerked her body to the side, bringing Rinol with her so that he lay atop her, nestled between her legs. The fire was flickering once more.

“Gods,” Rinol groaned into her mouth. “Gods, I love you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Rinol. To the ends of the earth, the end of time.”

He pulled back and pushed into her once more, growing harder by the second. He panted above her, his arms like a cage on either side of her head, but she felt safe, protected, loved. This man would never hurt her. And she could never hurt him.

“I love your cock. I love how it fills me. I love how it feels when you come for me, when you come in me, filling me to burst.” She dragged the tips of her claws down his back, leaving a trail of light red marks in his skin. “I love how you look at me like I’m the only person in the world for you. I love how you make me feel like a goddess.” She dug her heels in tighter to his back, arching her body, shoving her breasts forward. She felt Rinol’s mouth suckling at her neck, leaving a mark, teeth nibbling at the skin and the scales. “I love your laughter, your energy, your beauty. I love the light you emanate from your soul, bringing beauty to the dark places of the world. I love you, Rinol, with my body, my soul, my entire being.” She felt him sink his teeth into the place where her shoulder met her neck. Isoli cried out, her voice broken and ragged.

“Rinol!”

He came once more. Not as explosively as the previous time, more drawn out. He shuddered. She gasped, clenched around him, milked him, wanting everything he could give her and more. His seed filled her once more, filled her until she was ready to burst. Isoli felt warm, and the warmth was not merely from Rinol’s body. It was the warmth of his love for her, the warmth of her love for him. It was wrapped around both their bodies as tightly as they were wrapped around each other physically.

Finally, Rinol settled on top of her, his heavy weight a comfort. Isoli ran her hands over his back and arms and sides. Lightly kissed the crown of his head, inhaled his scent so that she would never forget it.

Gently, working together so they didn’t separate from one another, they brought the sheets over their entwined bodies. Isoli’s exhaustion was deep, as was her love. Soon they were both asleep, wrapped around each other as the world moved on around them. There would be time in the morning to face the world. But now, here, together, this was their time, and neither wanted to leave it.


End file.
